


What Life Makes of Us

by frominsideacomputer



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Brakebills (The Magicians), Chatwins get a cheeky mention, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fen is canonically the best character no offence, Fen likes knives, Fillory (The Magicians), I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, M/M, Not explicit sex but you know they get down, Physical Kids Cottage (The Magicians), Protective Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater Deserved Better, Quite a lot of monologues I'm sorry, The Library of the Neitherlands (The Magicians), This is because the season 5 ending was god awful, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fluff piece, just good vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frominsideacomputer/pseuds/frominsideacomputer
Summary: Someone comes crashing back into Eliot's life, and it seems so different but so much the same. It's a process of finding answers and getting more questions instead. Maybe all he needed was to lose it all.
Relationships: Margo Hanson/Josh Hoberman, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, William "Penny" Adiyodi/Julia Wicker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	1. A Lifetime Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Cute fluff piece that starts off a bit emosh but I promise gets better (Next chapters over the next few days #lockdownwriting)  
> Tragically not really much of a plot it's just one of those nice fics that makes you forget about an awful season finale or two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot has trauma, a student is nosy, someone gets seven years bad luck

Eliot Waugh had lived more lifetimes than most. He’d been more people than anyone should ever be. Growing up as a queer kid in rural Indiana taught him to hide his pain and his fears. He’d lied about who he was and become a person who fitted in with that life as much as he could. Getting into Brakebills was the best thing that happened after a life of abuse and lies, where he got to become a truer version of himself, a person who was free to try anything he wanted and become anything he wanted. And he met Margo, a girl who supported him and his alcohol and drug fuelled weekends. Then Quentin, Alice, Penny and Kady arrived, a whirlwind of trauma and youth who he could guide and manipulate. But they pulled him into their adventure at Fillory and that was the start of another person he became. High King Eliot of Fillory, a role he had to learn without books or a guidance. It was a challenge but he did it, with the help of Margo, Fen, Quentin and the others. So much happened to him, to all of them. It was a chaotic mess of good times which were the solace they held like a single match when the dark overwhelmed them.

And then the horrors really came. When the monster took Eliot’s body and used it like a rag doll, torturing his friends and playing with their emotions like the games it loved to play. That was when everything really changed. After that Eliot wasn’t the same. And he really didn’t have to be. After all that no one should have ever expected him to be the same fun, high-energy, bitchy, addict, queer Eliot Waugh. He wasn’t one of those people who’s always happy and always fun and always the hedonist. He had his fair share of trauma and only two people had ever really understood that. Margo Hanson, of course, his partner in crime, his best friend and the first person he’d ever trusted.

And then came Quentin. A fresh-faced, ignorant, dumb kid who was driven by emotion and a childish obsession with magic that gave Eliot an ounce of hope for the future. It was that drop of hope that made Eliot fall in love with Q. He saw something in Quentin that he hadn’t seen in anyone for a long time. Margo might have been his best friend but she was just as broken as him. Q had a gentle innocence and joy which scared Eliot, he couldn’t believe someone would have faith in magic and that it was truly a force for good.

In the lives that they’d lived together, there was only one where they’d been able to play out a fantasy that neither of them had wanted to admit. That day, sitting on the steps in the throne room, when Q had said that they’d had a perfect rehearsal for a life together, Eliot had turned him away, afraid of what it could have been. He regretted it and it was clear why it was the place he found the door when the Nameless was using his body as a mannequin. That’s what killed Q and Eliot never had the chance to say goodbye. So, he was forced to create another life without him, a life where unwavering hope was absent.  
Eliot felt like his heart had been drained of everything, as if someone had sucked all feeling out of him and he was just an empty shell left. Like his shade had been taken but worse: all emotion had been raked and clawed out, leaving deep scars for the final drips to drop out of his soul.

Eliot had been living in The Cottage for a few years since Margot, Josh, Fen and Alice had disappeared with the world seed. It had hurt at first, thinking he’d lost his best friends, but when the first messenger bunnies arrived, rasping the words “New Fillory!” and “We’re alive bitch!”, Eliot was overjoyed, and he had been to see their new world. Margot was a benevolent ruler, perhaps the first High King of Fillory who’d been almost universally loved by her citizens. He stayed at Brakebills, as one of the most skilled physical magicians who’s ever walked its corridors. Sometimes he’d go to New Fillory with Julia, Penny and Hope, when they needed a vacation or a break from responsibility.

Charlton had come and gone, it seemed that relationship was mostly because he hadn’t spoken to anyone in centuries. Eliot was just there when he needed someone because he was lonely. He understood why Charlton left to see the world, he was just bored of fresh starts and wanted to stay put for a while.

Eliot was sprawled across the bed, face buried into pillows and sheets tangled around his legs. He groaned and rolled over, eventually getting up. Some mornings he’d almost go to ask Margo what waistcoat he should wear, but he’s stop just in time. Despite everything, keeping up appearances was important to him. Eliot knew how much first impressions mattered and he’d been through too much to give up with it now. (Also, his collection of silk shirts was unparalleled.)

“Good morning, my pretty young things!” He sauntered into the lab, a group of eager first years were sitting at their desks, books stacked in front of them. “Put your textbooks away, they’re all written by straight old white men! Today we’re looking at-”  
“Excuse me professor,” a hand shot up from an eager blonde girl who reminded him of Alice.  
“Yes-?”  
She replied and continued with her question. “Daisy. I was in the library last night, doing some extra reading, (“Fucking nerd.” Someone muttered under their breath. “The nerds usually end up saving your life, be nice.” Eliot replied.) and found a spell called the Rhineman Ultra written in the margins, and some other things that I think are spells too. I was just wondering what they’re about?”  
Eliot sighed and smiled gently, how long ago it had been since they had to learn that spell and all the other battle magic. “What was the text book it was in?”  
“Oh, it wasn’t a text book, it was the first Fillory book I think, I have it here.” Daisy pulled out a dogeared copy of the novel and Eliot floated it over to where he stood. Opening it to where the girl’s bookmark was, he saw the notes in Q’s awful, awful, like so awful it hurt, handwriting, from when they’d been planning to kill The Beast. He took a deep breath and sighed, tracing the letters on the page with a finger.  
“The Rhineman Ultra is battle magic, completely illegal and incredibly hard to do, even with an Emotion Suppression, which is really, really, not worth it.”  
“You sound like you’ve done it sir?”  
“Now that I can’t tell you either way, I’d not be a very good professor if I had you doing battle magic at the next Welters Game.”  
“Why was it in a story book about a made-up world?” Daisy asked, her enquiring eyes tunnelling into El’s soul.  
He leaned back, putting the book down and breathing heavily. “Sometimes that’s where the best inspiration comes from,” sitting back up, he exhaled and stopped the nostalgia tour. “Fillory was written by an actual paedophile so please don’t read it or buy it. Use the money to buy a drink or something stronger.” He paused. “Right, back to today’s class, we’re looking at Strand’s Vitrum...”

After a full day of teaching, Eliot found himself sitting in the Dean’s office, with a drink in his hand.  
“They’re all so eager this year.” Penny said, flicking through the student files.  
“Don’t tell me you weren’t like that once?” Smirked Eliot.  
“I thought I always came across as cool and aloof in first year.”  
“I must admit Penny 40 a bit of an asshole when we first met, but you’re much better.”  
The door opened behind Eliot and Kady sat down next to him. “He was very good in bed though.” She said, putting her feet on the desk.  
“Don’t you have Hedge stuff to do?” Penny asked, pushing her feet onto the floor. They might have all grown up a lot but there would always be a part of them refusing to mature.  
“They can handle themselves, besides I haven’t seen you two in a while. How are you?”  
“It is what it is,” Eliot replied, sipping his drink. “I had a student ask me about the Rhineman Ultra today, she found it written in Fillory book one.” He put the book on the desk and flicked to the right page. “Look, this was from when we were trying to kill the Beast, most of it makes sense except these numbers underneath, I can’t figure out what they mean.”  
Kady and Penny leaned over the pages, looking at Q’s scribbles in the margin. The notes made sense, circumstances, power, number of people etc. But the numbers were a mystery, Q was the one good at that but it wasn’t like he’d need to use it again, they hadn’t had any imminent danger in a long time.  
“Look, it’s probably not important, just Q trying to work out the spell or something,” Kady said, confirming Eliot’s belief. “You know what he was like.”  
“I guess you’re probably right.” El put the book away and the evening stretched on, eventually he walked back home across campus.

As he strolled, he felt like there was someone watching him from in the hedges. A few metres away from home, a hedge rustled behind him and he span round quickly, hoping to catch the culprit. But the path was empty, Eliot sighed and carried on, putting some extra wards up when he got home.

Josh had fulfilled his goal of writing a cook book, but it was enchanted so the recipes changed depending on what you had in your fridge. Eliot made himself some kind of pasta and sat down on the couch, turning on some crappy Netflix show. He wasn’t really watching, thinking instead about the spell and the numbers in The World in The Walls. It probably didn’t mean anything, but what if Q had found a way to amplify it, make it more powerful, or something to stop it, that didn’t require god-like power. He could have spent hours thinking about it, and reminiscing about the previous lives they’d lived, but he was tired so decided to call it a night.

The lights in the Cottage were gently glowing, casting a series of long shadows across the room, it gave the house an eerie and ghostly light, which Eliot found he loved. It was soft and warming as well, it made a big empty house feel cosy.  
As he passed one of the mirrors on the wall, he could have sworn he saw someone other than himself in the reflection, he marked it down to tiredness and stress, and ignored it. At the top of the stairs, there was a full-length mirror, put there by Margo, claiming had the best lighting but really it was so she could spy on people downstairs. Again, as Eliot passed it, he caught a glimpse of something else there, and did a double take on the reflection, but by the time he was looking properly, all he saw was his own face staring back at him. So, he decided it was definitely time to go to bed.

Eliot had been asleep for a couple of hours before something woke him. It could have been just noise from students on campus, but the spells he had on The Cottage to make it impossible to find by students also blocked most noises from outside. It was dark in his bedroom, a sliver of moonlight shone through the curtains and over the bed, causing everything too look like it was in a black and white movie. He thanked the Moon - she’d eventually forgiven them for what had happened and they’d all been especially nice to her since - and tried to get back to sleep. Yet his efforts were in vain, a horrible, screeching noise filled the room. It was the sound of metal scraping on glass, like nails on a blackboard. Eliot sat up abruptly, casting to try to make the piercing sound go away, but it didn’t work, the sound only got louder and he could feel it reverberating out of the mirror on the wall. He threw a spell at the mirror and the noise stopped, only to be replaced by the sound of glass cracking, but the surface remained intact. The cracking continued and he stood in front of it, ready to cast on whatever was about to happen. The sound grew louder and louder, flooding the room with the noise, until it reached an almost unbearable pitch and Eliot almost buckled to his knees with the pain. The cracking filled his head and it reached an almighty peak, when suddenly a hooded figure fell out the mirror, surrounded by dust and broken glass as if they were running from something.  
“SMASH IT!” The mystery person said, collapsing to the floor. El picked the Welters Trophy on the table and threw it at the mirror, smashing it into millions of tiny shards, but not before a ghostly hand reached out towards them and pulled back into the mirror.  
Eliot didn’t know why he’d automatically done what the person had asked, but he felt something which made them feel like he could trust them. He cast Lucier’s Cleaning Charm to get rid of the glass and knelt down, pulling the hood off the face of the mysterious man.  
“Eliot.” He rasped, voice barely above a whisper.  
El gasped, “Quentin.”


	2. Answers in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin monologues, Eliot has a drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter twooo babey ! Sorry this one is almost entirely quentin talking but I needed to plot advance u know

“I need a drink,” Eliot muttered and went downstairs, leaving Q on the floor in his room. “I’m dreaming, that’s all this is, it’s a dream.” He pressed his finger into the palm of his hand, excepting the world to stop around him, but it didn’t, the clock kept on ticking. “It’s probably an acid trip or a bad come down. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Josh’s recipe” Trying to reason with himself - because this really shouldn’t be happening - he poured a large amount of vodka into a glass and downed it in one. Pouring another one, he collapsed onto the couch, hearing footsteps on the stairs.  
Q picked up the half-empty vodka bottle and took a swig, coughing sharply afterwards. He sat down in the armchair, avoiding looking at Eliot.  
The two of them sat in silence in the dark room, once again the only light coming from the glow of the moon.  
“This is weird.” Q said, sighing.  
Eliot tensed, “Q what the hell is going on? How are you here?”  
Quentin leaned forward, the light hitting his face and Eliot could see how different he looked. Older, but not much, his face was just worn and tired, like he’d been awake for eternity. His hair was still long, falling in front of his face like it always did. He looked so different, but still like last day he’d seen him.  
“I saw Penny you know, our Penny, he was waiting for me when I arrived in the underworld. I took the Underworld metro card and moved on, or I thought I had. I arrived in some dark place, assuming I’d not gone to heaven, but there was, erm, no one there. I first thought that it was my own personal hell, where I was destined to be alone forever. But something didn’t feel quite right, it was just too empty to be anything like that. I’ve read so many books that any version of hell is more imaginative than where I was. It was a cliché of an afterlife and I wanted answers.  
“So, I started walking, I must have walked for weeks, but there was no way to tell. I couldn’t feel anything. It took away everything I had and all I knew was that I had another quest, another journey to go on. Eventually, I found a wall, not that I could see it and followed it, feeling for anything like a light switch or door handle, even a big red button that said ‘Do not push’ just to make something happen, I needed answers. A-and it felt like there was something in the dark with me, just out of the corner of my eye. It was a presence that I couldn’t see but I knew I wasn’t alone and I had to get out.  
“Eventually I found something that felt different. It felt like real glass, like a window or a mirror. I didn’t have anything t-to lose, it wasn’t like whatever was on the other side was going to kill me. I-I-I smashed my way through and landed in what I think was the Mirror Realm. There was broken glass behind me, and everything was grey and cold. I knew I was somewhere different because I could feel again and I could feel magic. But I also knew what had happened last time I was there. I had to get out, and whatever I’d felt in the dark place hadn’t gone, it was still like it was just in the corner of my eye. I’ll skip through the, what felt like decades, of exploring, to find a way out until someone found me.” Quentin paused, as if the next part of the tale was hard to tell. 

He gulped and continued, the night drawing close to dawn. “It was Janus, the God of doorways, erm, openings, pathways, that kind of stuff. He told me that something is going wrong in the underworld and people aren’t going where they’re supposed to. Hades had fucked off and no one could find him. He told me that there was a way out of there, he didn’t know where it would lead, but he knew it was a way out of there, and maybe even make it back to you. I wasn’t sure about it but I didn’t want to be stuck where I’d, erm, died. I explored it, but that looming presence was still there and I could feel it getting nearer as I got closer to the way out. I found it in the end, but that thing was chasing me now and, erm, I had to get out of there. And here I am.” Q leaned back in the chair and swigged from the bottle. “It felt like I was there for months.”  
Eliot’s brow curled, and he finally spoke to him. “Q, you’ve been dead for three years.”  
“What? No, that’s not – no, what?”  
“Time has had a way of fucking us over, you didn’t think that would stop when you died, did you” Eliot scoffed, he didn’t know how he felt about Q being here. As much as he missed him, he’d spent years moving on and getting better. “Why did the door bring you here? It’s not like that mirror is enchanted, maybe apart from something to stop Margo from repeating outfits.”  
“I don’t know, maybe it sent me to somewhere that meant a lot to me, or, erm, someone.” 

Sunlight was streaming through the windows and both of them had fallen into an alcohol-induced stupor and were collapsed into the furniture. Eliot woke first, not acknowledging that anything was different when he saw Quentin across the room, but it dawned on him after a moment of bliss. He left to before Q woke and they had to properly confront each other. Teaching first years how the Harper’s Fire Shaping worked took his mind off the unexpected guest at home, but when the breaks between classes and the cacophony of students calmed down, he couldn’t help but get lost in his thoughts about why Quentin had come back through to him, and not to Julia or Alice. It gave him a spark of hope for something that was rendered impossible so long ago. But he squashed that thought quickly, knowing if he indulged himself in thoughts like that, he’d end up in a downward spiral.  
He wasn’t doing any teaching in the afternoon, so went home, knowing he’d have to talk to Q. 

Quentin was staring into the clock mechanism when Eliot got home. He looked confused and upset, “Eliot, where’s, erm, Fillory?” He had tears in his eyes, but there was an anger behind them.  
Eliot sighed and sat on the stairs, head in his hands. “It’s gone Q, Fillory’s gone. Bambi destroyed it to save everyone-”  
“What the fuck Eliot? Why would you do that?! That goes against everything we’ve ever done!” Quentin’s voice was raised, he stormed over to Eliot.  
“Quentin, just listen please. It’s not gone, it’s just moved. I’ll tell you everything if you give me the chance.”  
After Eliot had explained how they’d pissed off the moon, created a new Fillory, met Rupert Chatwin, burned down The Library and met the real Santa, Quentin had his head in his hands and tears in his eyes. “Oh my, I had no idea. Can you, erm, talk to Margo, Fen, Josh?”  
“Penny 23 can get us to New Fillory, and we still use the bunnies.”  
Q paused, glad at least that his favourite fantasy world was still there and Eliot continued to explain what they were all doing. “Kady’s practically leading the hedges, stopping them from going rogue. Penny’s the dean of Brakebills so technically my boss, Julia mostly looks after Hope, but teaches where she-” He was interrupted by Quentin, “Who’s Hope?”  
“Hope is Julia’s and Penny’s daughter, she must be nearly four now.”  
“What? That’s amazing! I’d love to meet her.” A smile stretched across his face and Eliot’s heart almost melted at seeing something he’d missed for years.  
“Q, honey, I think you might need to ease into coming back into all our lives. It’s been a long time and I don’t know how they’d all cope if you came back so quickly.” 

Quentin understood what Eliot was talking about, grief was hard and gruelling, and he didn’t want to cause any more pain to his best friends. They sat in silence for a while, and eventually Q’s head dropped onto Eliot’s shoulder. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he tensed up. It was sensation he hadn’t felt in a while, not just from Quentin but from anyone. While he’d had a series of reckless and meaningless flings, there hadn’t been anyone for a while who he’d been truly close too.  
“Wait,” Quentin sat up, hair swinging in front of his face. “Where’s Alice?”  
Eliot sighed, he’d been half hoping that the Alice Question wouldn’t come up, perhaps a sense of jealousy that he’d never quite gotten rid of, but Quentin deserved to know. “She stayed in New Fillory with the others, I think life here got too much for her after everything. I don’t blame her, being able to create a whole new world was perfect.”  
“Oh, right. I guess, erm, we can visit them maybe, I don’t know. I’m so confused.” Quentin dropped his head into his hands and silence fell between them again for a moment. “I’m sorry Eliot for dropping all this onto you. I h-haven’t even asked if you even want me here, because I can go if you want.” Quentin stood up, stepping down from the stairs, but Eliot grabbed his hand and pulled him close. His heart was pounding and he could feel Q’s breath on his face, with his hair gently brushing against his cheek.  
“Quentin Coldwater,” He whispered. “Please don’t go anywhere ever again.”  
A beat of silence echoed between them until Quentin leaned in pressed and his lips against Eliot’s. It was a moment of ecstasy, and Eliot was an expert in that feeling, so he knew this was better. He kissed Quentin back, wrapping his hand arounds Q’s waist, feeling his warmth and pulling him closer. They were a tangle of limbs and clothes, Eliot was pressed against the stairs, ignoring the pain from the wooden boards behind him. All he cared about now was kissing Quentin and making up for a lost lifetime and so much time in between. Fingers ran through hair, stubble scratched on skin, noses bumped together, hearts raced and breaths were raspy. It was a perfect moment, it was like the first kiss you have with someone you know is your soulmate, it was messy and passionate and perfect. 

Eliot felt Quentin pull away, “What’s wrong, Q?” He asked, caressing Q’s cheek.  
“Nothing,” He smiled softly, “I just didn’t ask if you were seeing anyone.”  
Eliot laughed, rolling his eyes. “Bit too late now, no?” He pressed a soft kiss on Quentin’s lips, feeling Q smile underneath. “We could take this somewhere more comfortable, I think the stairs might be able to slice my back in two.”  
“Oh my god, of course, I’m so sorry.” Quentin fussed, helping Eliot to his feet, and he gestured for Eliot to go upstairs.  
“I just meant the couch but…” Trailing off as Q’s hand stroked the back of his neck and there was a look of lust in his eyes.  
Upstairs, Eliot was lying on his bed, kissing Quentin between items of clothing being taken off. “Why…do…you…insist…on...wearing a tie…and waistcoat?” Quentin huffed, his fingers fiddling with the purple silk.  
“You know I look gorgeous.” Eliot winked, unbuckling his belt while Quentin pulled his own clothes off. El felt his blood pumping around his body, he needed this more than anything and it seemed Quentin did too. 

Sometime later, Eliot and Quentin were tangled between sheets and each other, Eliot opened his eyes, almost expecting Alice to be sitting at the end of the bed, like that time before, but she wasn’t. It was just him and Q, both alive, both sober, and both very, very happy.


	3. The Moments We Missed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin gets bored, a child can’t sleep, Penny is not designated driver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say about this chapter really except that there's a GOT season 8 spoiler in the first bit sorryyyy

It had been just over a week since Quentin had smashed his way out of Eliot’s mirror. They were still the only ones who knew that he was really back. They’d held off telling the others for two reasons really, one was that they didn’t know how to break the news, it wasn’t ever easy telling someone that their best friend who’d died over three years ago was not dead anymore. The other reason was that they wanted to be sure Quentin was really himself, having had enough trouble with missing Shades and possession, Eliot didn’t want to have to inflict something worse than losing Quentin on his friends. But Q was getting restless, he’d been cooped up in the Cottage, unable to leave without being recognised. Most of the Brakebills students knew who he was, only really because they’d named the new school wing after him, with a photo of him above the door. But it would be weird to see someone who you thought was dead wandering around campus.

Once he’d eaten every single food he missed, gotten drunk with El almost every night of the week, and had a lot of sex, Quentin just wanted to see his friends.

The front door swung open and Eliot found Quentin watching the last series of Game of Thrones on the couch.  
“No spoilers but I wouldn’t bother.” Eliot said, pushing Q’s feet off the cushion and sitting down. Quentin turned off the TV and sat up, brushing crumbs off his chest.  
“El...?” He said nervously, pulling the biggest puppy-dog eyes at Eliot.  
“What is it?” Eliot’s heart melted when Q made that face, and he knew whatever it was, was important.  
“Could we, erm, maybe go out soon? I’m going a little stir crazy here.”  
Eliot smirked, “You’ve only been here a week.” He twisted around to they were lying head to feet on the sofa.  
“I was kinda dead before that, I’m really, really bored of being stuck in the same place. Please El, the longer we don’t tell the others, the harder it’s going to be.”  
Eliot paused, Quentin did raise a good point, he didn’t want to deal with the wrath of Alice and Margo after they found out. “Okay, I’m supposed to be going to a little soirée at Penny and Julia’s tomorrow night, Kady usually comes too, we can do your end of Season 1 Buffy moment then. How’s that sound?”  
Quentin smiled and shifted so he could learn on Eliot. “Thank you, El.”  
Eliot put the TV back on, wrapping an arm around Q. “Sometimes you appeal to my better nature. Right, where are you up to? Has Missandei been killed yet?”  
“I HAVEN’T GOT THERE YET!”

“What’s appropriate to wear to a ‘hey so I’m not dead’ drinks?” Quentin was sitting on the corner of Eliot’s bed, watching him meticulously iron a green shirt.  
“When have you made a sartorial effort before?” Eliot muttered, it wasn’t that he disliked Q’s t-shirt and shirt combo but it wasn’t exactly exciting.  
“I have a signature look,” Quentin defended himself, but realised something important. “I don’t even have any clothes other than these and I literally died in this.”  
Eliot swallowed, every time Q mentioned his death, it hurt just a little bit, like a paper cut. He shouldn’t hate being reminded of it now Quentin was back, but the return of something you  
missed didn’t take away all the hurt from before. “There’s a box in my closet, it’s got some of your stuff in.”  
El watched Quentin open the closet door and pull out a cardboard box. Quentin rummaged through until he found a shirt and jacket. Pulling them out, he looked up at Eliot, a look of confusion, worry and sadness on his face. “Why, El?”  
“Because I missed you, and maybe it was a way of holding onto you.” Eliot knelt down, placing a hand on Q’s face. “I should’ve thrown them out but I’m glad I didn’t.”

They arrived at Julia and Penny’s apartment, taking a bottle of gin as a gift. Just outside the door, Eliot felt Quentin grab his arm, pulling him aside. “What did you tell them?”  
“Just that I was bringing an old friend.”  
“I suppose that’s true, erm, I’m slightly surprised you didn’t say, erm, boyfriend.” As soon as Quentin said the word boyfriend, Eliot felt his stomach cramp, he hadn’t even considered that. The hope that Quentin used to give him had died three years ago and it wasn’t going to come back soon. Boyfriend implied a future and commitment, and Eliot didn’t know what that meant for either of them.  
“I’ll go in first, maybe give them a warning.” Eliot opened the front door, and was met by Julia, Penny and Kady, who were all sitting chatting.  
“We almost thought you’d bailed El.” Penny said, and Eliot gulped, suddenly incredibly nervous about the next few moments. “Where’s you friend? You said you were bringing someone.”  
“He’s, erm, just outside, but I need to tell you that it’s gonna be weird.”  
“It’s not someone who tried to kill us once, is it? Because that’s a long list.” Julia laughed, but it just made Eliot more nervous.

Quentin came around the corner and nervously walked over to Eliot, who was watching the expressions of the other three.

“This isn’t like a weird sex thing is it?” Penny 23 asked, looking nervously between Quentin and Eliot.  
“Eliot, what did you do?” Kady asked nervously, knowing that attempts to reanimate the dead never went well.  
“Erm, it wasn’t him. It’s, erm, it’s really me.” Quentin mumbled, not making eye contact with the others.  
Everyone was silent for a while, just not sure how to properly react, until Julia just whispered, with tears in her eyes. “Quentin.” She stood up, walking slowly over to him. Eliot stepped back, giving them some space.  
“Jules, it’s me.” Quentin’s eyes were brimming, trying hard to not burst into tears. He took Julia’s hands, looking deeply into her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she pulled Quentin into the tightest, longest hug anyone had ever seen. Time seemed to stop for all of them, like when the gods could freeze a moment. Q and Julia broke apart, with Jules wiping a tear from Quentin’s cheek. Kady stood up, in complete disbelief, but with a soft smile on her face. “Hey Quentin,” She said, giving him a brief hug.  
“Kady, I have to tell you something.”  
“What is it? What’s wrong?”  
"Nothing, erm, just I saw Penny, your Penny, in the erm, Underworld, he greeted me when I arrived.”  
Kady gasped with shock, “Is he okay? What’s he doing?” Quentin took her hand, as Eliot watched him do what he did best: give hope and reassurance everyone he met.  
“He was the last person I saw, kinda fitting I guess, he said that he was sorry that he won’t see any of us again, that he won’t see you again, but he knows it’s going to turn out okay.”  
“How does he know that?” Julia piped up, and Kady sat down, still looking a bit worried.  
“I guess he’d read our books? Before you guys, erm, apparently destroyed the library?” Quentin looked to Eliot for reassurance or support, and he nodded, sitting down, pouring a drink. Quentin followed suit, the others all watching him intensely.  
“He took me to see all of you, because it’s hard to let go that easily. I saw you all, around the fire, Take on Me was a nice touch.” Quentin sipped his drink, as the others remembered that horrible day. Eliot had been in so much pain for so long before then, and he didn’t have the one person after that who could really help him.

“But how are you here?” Penny asked, nursing a large drink. Quentin explained, telling the story of what had happened to him. Eliot stopped listening, he’d heard it before. Instead his thoughts wandered to all the times he’d wished that he’d had Quentin around over the last few years. Through break ups and hangovers, as well as the best moments like Hope’s first steps, or when they’d first got into New Fillory. There were so many moments that he should have been there, but wishes and should haves didn’t change the past. All he had now was the future. Eliot tuned back into the present, where Quentin was telling them about how he’d come through into Eliot’s room. The others were asking questions, whether he knew where he’d been, if he knew what was following him, and what was going to happen now.

“I don’t know, erm, I know I can’t come back into your lives like nothing had changed, but I don’t have anything left here anymore.”  
Eliot started to speak, “Q-” but he was interrupted by a small voice from the other side of the room.  
“Dad? I can’t sleep.” Hope softly walked across to them, getting picked up by Julia. Eliot looked at Quentin, who was going through every emotion on the planet. Eventually he settled on a look of tearful joy, a smile cracking on his face. A smile that pushed in dimples on his cheeks and made his eyes disappear.  
“Uncle Eliot!” Hope suddenly clambered out of her mother’s arms and dashed over to Eliot, who scooped up the toddler, kissing her on the forehead. The girl squirmed around, looking at the newcomer who she didn’t recognise.  
“Hope, this is your Uncle Quentin, he’s been away for a while but he’s back now.” Q and Eliot shared a small glance of reassurance. Hope wriggled out of Eliot’s arms and over to Quentin.  
“Hey, sweetie,” He said, voice cracking with emotion.  
“Quen-tin.” She sounded out, as if checking the syllables. He looked deeply at herm seeing the resemblance between her and Julia as a child, the girl he grew up with.  
“HQ?” Penny said. “Isn’t it time for bed? Come on, I’ll tuck you in”  
“Ohh okayyyyyyy.” She padded off, taking Penny’s hand as he took her to bed.  
Quentin turned to Eliot, smile still brimming off his face. “HQ?”  
Eliot smiled, and put his hand around Q’s shoulder. “Hope Quentin Wicker-Adioydi.” Eliot saw a single tear run down Quentin’s cheek and drop into his lap.  
“What a fucking stupid name.”

They reminisced for hours, telling Quentin tales of quests and adventures, of parenting and teaching, of the Moon and the Hedges, of the Library and the Neitherlands. There was crying, there was laughter, and most importantly, there was pure, unadulterated joy. As Quentin and Eliot were leaving, Julia asked the all-important question. “When are you going to tell the others?”  
Quentin swallowed, “Soon, we just need to get to Fillory.”  
“I can do that.” Penny slurred, drunker than he thought he was. “Let’sgonow!”  
“NO!” Eliot shouted, pushing Penny to stop him from grabbing all their hands. He didn’t want to go yet, not in this state, and not before he and Quentin had really talked about them. “Come by the Cottage in a couple of days, we can go then.”  
“Okayyyyyyy,” Penny wobbled and gave Quentin a sloppy hug. “Really glad you’re back dude.”  
Kady hugged him next. “Of course, you’d find a way to come back.”  
“Still got more questing to do.”

Julia was last, pulling Quentin into another long and tight hug. “I missed you so much Q,” She mumbled, face buried into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you got to meet Hope. I love you, Q.”  
“Love you too, Jules.”

Quentin and Eliot were on their way back to the Cottage, staggering drunkenly along the empty streets. “You know what I really missed when I died?” Q slurred.  
“What?” Eliot replied, swinging around a lamppost.  
“I missed making mistakes and getting drunk and regretting things.” He replied, grabbing Eliot’s hand.  
“Thaaat’s a bit deep.” Eliot laughed as they reached home, opening the front door.

Quentin collapsed into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, igniting the logs and letting a warmth spread throughout the room. He didn’t like darkness anymore, he’d told Eliot days ago, it reminded him of that dark place he had been in; Eliot understood, knowing what it felt like to be trapped within a dark presence. “I missed a lot okaaaay. I missed you the most.” Eliot felt his heart stop when Q said that. He sat down in the chair opposite, bringing over a bottle of wine. Quentin continued, taking the wine from El. “I mean we had an extra 50 years together, an extra lifetime. There’s no one else I’ve known like that. Peaches and Plums.”  
“Peaches and plums, peaches and fucking plums.” He slid off the chair and onto the floor, the light of the fire illuminating his face. He watched the flames intently, watching them dance over the wood, like birds’ wings or leaves in the wind. Quentin slid onto the floor next to him, handing him the bottle of wine. “I’m sorry about that day.”  
“What?” Quentin didn’t look at him, but straight ahead, into the fire.  
“After our life together, when we were sitting in the throne room and you said it was proof of concept. That we’d had a dress rehearsal for it and I said no. I was scared, I didn’t know what it really meant for us, for anything.” He felt Quentin’s hand take his own, gripping it tightly. They turned to face each other, shadows from the fire flitting on their skin. Eliot could feel Q’s warm breath on his skin, only centimetres apart.

“I love you, Eliot Waugh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not going to lie to you kids i hate this chapter but the next one is better i promise


	4. Prove Yourself to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two criminals are arrested, Josh breaks a plate, Alice tries to kill a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Fillory was what I wanted it to be, we know fuck all about it, use your imagination

“Sometimes I wish we could spend all day in bed.” Quentin mumbled, snuggled into Eliot.   
“We both know that’s bordering on tragic depressed emo teenager behaviour.” He replied, stroking Quentin’s hair.   
“So, both our adolescences then?”   
“I’ll have you know I was a high functioning depressed teenager.” Eliot gently squeezed Quentin, pulling him a little closer.   
They wallowed in each other’s presence for a while, as the sunlight streamed in through the windows. Eliot felt the weight Quentin’s head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed. It was a peaceful moment, where they were safe from the world and all that could hurt them.   
Quentin began speaking “You know, we still need to talk about-”   
“I love you too, Q.” Eliot interrupted, he’d not said it back before, an ounce of fear still holding him back a bit. He wasn’t sure why he said it just then, but maybe it was because it was a moment for just them. Maybe it was the fact that this room held so many memories for them. Good memories, and bad, but that’s what made their life what it was. Quentin didn’t reply for a moment or two, and Eliot was suddenly filled with anxiety that he’d done something wrong. “You said it first, I couldn’t say it-” The words vomited out of his mouth, trying to rectify a mistake.   
Quentin turned to face Eliot, a smile creasing on his face. “El, you don’t have to say it if you don’t mean it, but I, erm, was going to say we need to talk about what we’re going to do about telling the others in Fillory. I love you, El, but you don’t have to say it back.”   
Eliot winced with embarrassment, ashamed that he’d got it so wrong. “Oh, right, Q, I, erm, do really mean it though. I love you, Q.” He kissed Quentin softly on the forehead. “We might have to be more careful with it this time, it’s different, it’s been hard for all of them, especially Alice.”  
“I know, I mean you know them best most recently, what do you think I should do?”  
Eliot sighed, stroking Quentin’s back with a wistful elegance. “It’s never going to be easy, planning a Sherlock season 3 moment is a bit weird but weird is what we do.” 

The next day, Quentin and Eliot were one or five drinks down, trying to feel less nervous about what they were doing later. Penny, Julia, Hope, and Kady arrived to find the two of them cuddled together on the couch.   
“Um, guys?” Julia said, shaking Quentin’s shoulder.   
“Oh shit.” Q leapt up, dragging Eliot with him.   
“Liquid courage?” Kady scoffed, examining an empty wine bottle. “Sure you’re ready to do this?”   
“I’ve never been more ready.” Eliot straightened his tie and waistcoat, checking for the never-emptying hipflask.   
“Before we go,” Quentin stopped them, “You guys don’t have to stay while we confront this, this is my thing and I should have to deal with it.”   
Julia and Eliot smiled softly, Quentin had barely changed. “Q, it’s not your fault, this isn’t your battle to face on your own, but we’ll let you do it alone if you want.” Julia replied.  
Eliot squeezed Quentin’s hand and whispered to him, “Peaches and plums, Q, peaches and plums.” And then they were transported into a world where opium clung to the air. 

It was so much like the old Fillory, all the best bits of it, just as Fen had wished. Chatwin’s torrent, the talking animals, and the overwhelming variety of magical creatures. But it also has the bits of earth that she’d loved. Fast food, better alcohol, synthetic fibres, and a much more sophisticated democracy. The last one had been set up by the group when they’d arrived, despite Margo’s complaints. They took what they loved from all the worlds that they’d known and created something new. It, of course, wasn’t without its problems but that was how life was supposed to go.   
Eliot and Quentin had been left by the others just outside Castle Whitespire – some things didn’t need changing – to undertake this new quest. As they walked down the path to the castle, Quentin kept pointing out things, like an excited child on Christmas morning. Eliot watched him experience it all for the first time, missing the feeling of the unknown, but content that Quentin was so happy in this moment.   
“I know this is going to sound stupid,” Eliot began, just before they entered the castle. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful to do a full dramatic reveal where you take your hood off, in a Luke in Return of the Jedi moment.” The look that Quentin gave Eliot could have cut glass, but it was too quickly broken by him bursting into a huge grim and laughing.   
“Honestly, I kinda wanted to say it too but this a very serious time,” He giggled – just sobering up – pulling his hood over his head, and Eliot did the same. “I’ll take it down later but I’ll indulge you for now.” But they must have been seen by an over-eager palace guard, as not five seconds later they were being marched to the prison in the castle. Despite protests from Eliot (“I am-was your king! Tell High King Margo it’s Eliot!”) they were thrown into a cell.

Quentin sat down on the bench, turned towards the wall, while Eliot shouted through the bars about suing them and having their hands cut off and severe revenge. Sometime later, after Eliot had given up shouting and was leaning against the bars, sipping from his hip flask, they heard voices coming.  
“Your highnesses, we found them lurking around the castle entrance, we were worried they were coming here to do you harm.” A generic castle guard came around the corner first, followed by Margo and Fen, who immediately saw Eliot and their expressions turned to anger at the guard.   
“Oh my god, El!” Margo dashed over to the bars, while Fen scolded the guard and took the keys.   
“Hey Bambi.” He always loved seeing her, and when she’d been taken to the New Fillory without warning, he realised how much he never wanted to lose her again. “I think you have a trigger-happy soldier.   
“He’ll be dealt with properly.” Fen said, about to unlock the door, until she saw the other person in the back of the cell, turned away from them. “Eliot, who’s that?”  
Eliot turned towards Quentin, watching him slowly stand up in the shadows. Eliot saw how careful and calm he was, knowing now was not the time joke or to laugh about it. Quentin’s hands reached up for the fabric of his hood, slowly pulling it down off his head, and he stepped into the beam of light that was shining through the window. Fen’s expression dropped, her face just wiped of all emotion. She hadn’t known him as well as the others, but it was still the biggest shock she’d ever had.   
Margo was speechless, perhaps for the first time in her life, until she just muttered the words: “El, this isn’t a Margolem, or like a weird fetish thing?”   
“Why does everyone think it’s a fetish thing?” Eliot muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.   
“Margo-” Quentin began, but he was interrupted by a tremendous crash from the back of the room. Plates and glass were scattered across the floor, for where they’d been dropped.   
“Quentin?” Josh said, rubbing his eyes to check he wasn’t hallucinating.   
“Hey, Hoberman.”   
Josh looked between El and Q, “This isn’t a weird-?”  
“Fetish thing? No, it isn’t.” If Eliot had rolled his eyes any harder they would have let him see inside his own head.   
“Guys, look, I’ll tell you everything, just let us out of here?” He pleaded but was met with stern looks.  
“How do we know it’s really you?” Fen said suspiciously, her hand grasping the hilt of a knife in her belt.   
“Okay, erm, Fen, you were promised to Eliot because your dad made a knife that we could kill The Beast with…you really, really hate faeries, you found the, erm, Secret Sea beneath the castle, and erm, Josh turned into a goldfish. Oh, and you really like knives.  
“Josh, you got trapped in a dream party world and we sang, erm, Under Pressure to get you out of it. Erm, you were one of the surviving but missing members of the third-year class, along with Victoria and the, erm, weird dragon one?” He paused before looking at Margo, whose eyes were brimming with tears. “Margo Hanson, Eliot’s partner in crime, Exiled High King of Fillory, when I, erm, died anyway. Your ex made a clay golem of you that nearly killed you, erm, you’re smart and powerful and you scare me a little bit but I trust you. If that’s not enough, me, you and Eliot had a threesom-”  
“OKAY!” Margo interrupted loudly, unlocking the door to the cell. “It’s really you, isn’t it?” She whispered, as he walked over to her.   
“I might have to get a sticker because people keep asking me.” Quentin pulled her into a tight hug, as Eliot hugged Fen and Josh, he’s missed them too. Quentin hugged the others too, reassuring Fen that he wasn’t going to try to kill any of them. 

They walked back up to the throne room, with Quentin telling them the story of what happened. They reached the room, vastly different from the old one. It had much more light streaming in the windows, the thrones were more elaborate (and not cursed). It exuded a feeling for the future. Eliot sat down in a luxurious velvet arm chair, having a drink from the hipflask which he then passed to Fen who looked like she needed about twenty drinks.  
“…And suddenly I was lying on Eliot’s floor. It was weird, I still don’t know what happened, but I’m not sure if I want answers, sometimes they just leave to more questions.” Quentin finished telling the story, the others captivated by it. “But what happened to you guys is much nicer, tell me about the, erm, world seed and creating Fillory.”  
“The world seed is a way to create something from scratch, completely as you want. You have to feed it with the ideas to make whatever it is, so Fen told it about the best parts of Fillory and Earth. Suddenly we all woke up in a forest, me, Josh, Fen and Alice-”  
Quentin suddenly interrupted, “Oh my god, Alice.” He looked over to Eliot who made a face of ‘how did you forget Alice?’ “Where is she?” 

Quentin and Eliot left the throne room, walking to the north tower of the castle where Alice was pouring over books, trying to learn more spells and trying to help the people of Fillory. They stopped outside the door, Eliot pulling Q aside for a moment. He kissed him softly, whispering “Good luck.”   
Quentin made his way up the stairs, heart pounding in his chest. He pushed the door open, revealing a huge library, where Alice was sitting at a desk, buried in a stack of books.   
He swallowed. “Alice.” She looked up, recognition flashing in her eyes. Quentin tried to continue speaking but he was violently thrown back against the wall, books cascading around him.   
“Who are you?!” Alice screamed, throwing another spell at Quentin, but he was too quick for her this time. He blocked the next burst of energy, causing it to fire back at her, throwing her to the ground.   
“Alice, it’s me!” He kept blocking the spells she was firing at him; books and paper was flying around the room like a tornado had struck.   
“It can’t be!” She twisted her fingers, about to throw some battle magic, but just before it followed through, she heard something that made her stop.   
“Charlie!”


	5. The Way Things Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice gets nostalgic, Josh drugs everyone, Eliot worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of proper plot, sorry for the teeny bit of angst in this chapter x

“What?” Her hands still ready to fire at him.  
“Your brother, he used to make you glass horses, he went missing and you joined Brakebills to find out what had happened.”  
Alice’s arms dropped to her side and she ran over to Quentin, pushing books out of the way. “Quentin?” She murmured, caressing his face in her hand.  
“Alice.” His face broke into a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks. Suddenly, she was kissing him, and he was kissing her in return. His hands were holding her face, hers were wrapped around his neck. He couldn’t deny that he missed it, but it wasn’t a perfect moment. They were abruptly interrupted by the door opening and Eliot coming crashing into the room.  
“It sounded like a hea-oh.” He suddenly saw Alice and Quentin in each other’s arms, surrounded by books and paper scattered everywhere. “It seems like you’re handling this pretty well Alice, I’ll just go.” As he turned to leave, Quentin saw the tears brimming in his eyes.  
Q pulled away from Alice, embarrassment and sorrow rippling over his face. “Alice, erm, I missed you, and I care about you so much, and I know a lot has changed, but I don’t think we can ever work again. I still trust you, and I believe in you but I-”  
“Q, I understand,” She smiled gently. “I have a life here, a life I never, ever, expected, and now you’re back, and that’s amazing, but I understand. Maybe change will be good. I get it, it’s okay. But, I have to know, how are you back? What happened?”  
They sat down in the mess of manuscripts, Quentin telling her the whole story of the dark place, finding the door, meeting Janus (“I wouldn’t trust him” Alice interjected, “He helped me out, I don’t know.” Q replied.), and finally falling through the mirror in Eliot’s room. Alice wanted to find answers, to know why he’d come back, and it wasn’t like Quentin didn’t, but for now, he wanted to enjoy being alive again

Eliot was still waiting at the bottom of the tower, kicking himself that he’d been so stupid to think that Quentin would ever choose him over Alice. Saying ‘I love you’ didn’t mean anything more than when you say it to your friends; the sex was just because Q had been alone for so long; the whole thing was only because Eliot was just there. Nothing more. He stood up and left, joining the others in the throne room again, where he also found Penny, Julia, Hope, and Kady. It seemed to have become a family reunion.  
“You should come to see us more,” Margo said, sprawled over her throne – which had a remarkable resemblance to the Iron Throne. “I miss you El.”  
“I miss you too, Bambi, but you should come back to earth more, they made a movie of Little Women, it was really good.”  
“El, since when do you care about book adaptations?” scoffed Margo.  
“It had Timothée Chalamet in it, what was I supposed to do?” He replied, but his last words were lost by Quentin and Alice joining the rest of them.  
Quentin immediately approached Eliot, “El, I need to explain-” If Eliot had been the bigger person, he would have let Q finish, hearing him out, but he wasn’t and didn’t think twice about it. 

They all stayed for the evening, having a lavish, and somewhat hallucinogenic, dinner prepared by Josh. They all talked for hours: Penny and Eliot complained about the eager first years, with Alice blushing profusely, knowing she'd been just like that; Kady talked about the Hedges, how they were making it all safer for them; Margo, Josh and Fen gushed about how they were making Fillory, Quentin was captivated by it, wishing he’d been there to help at the start; Julia and Eliot were quiet, both of them watching Quentin from afar, just in absolute awe of him, how he was definitely the same Quentin but he’d been through something difficult. They believed his story, all they didn’t understand was why. Julia had the luxury of being able to brainstorm all her ideas, but Eliot didn’t, if he became too wrapped up in speculation, he knew that he’d end up in a downward spiral of obsession. 

The sun was setting, casting an amber glow through the windows and over the diners. It hit Quentin’s face in way that Eliot found so beautiful, he had to blink back tears. The validity and simplicity of the shadows on his skin made everything else fall away, and stop Quentin’s return from feeling like a dream.  
“We should go,” Penny said, “HQ needs to get some sleep or she’ll be as cranky as her mother in the morning.” Goodbyes were said, hugs were given, and kisses were exchanged. Eliot was avoiding Quentin during all of this, not wanting to confront him about it all yet, but Quentin came over to him.  
“El? They need to go, you ready?”  
Eliot sighed, afraid that this would happen. “So, you’re staying here then, with Alice. I mean, maybe I was too optimistic about us, that it was just a flight of fancy. Fillory was always your thing, and I guess it’s fitting that you are staying and with Alice.” He looked down at Quentin, who had a cheeky grin on his face and was laughing lightly. “What’s the big joke, Q?”  
Quentin sniffed, stifling laughter. “I’m not staying, I’m coming back with you.”  
Eliot was in shock, but his surprise was cut short by Penny shouting at them. “Guys, we kinda need to go?”  
“Yeah, okay,” Quentin turned around, taking Eliot’s and Julia’s hands. “See you all soon, I guess.” He said to the group, knowing he’d definitely be back soon.

Eliot and Quentin had just arrived back at the Cottage, having been dropped at home by Penny. It was some horrible hour in the morning, when it feels like between today and tomorrow. Quentin was exhausted, and he flopped onto the couch. Eliot sat down on the other end, once again avoiding eye contact with Quentin. “Q, why are you staying? I saw you with Alice, you didn’t have to some back out of pity.” As much as it broke Eliot’s heart to say, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t say anything.  
“El, look at me,” said Quentin, taking Eliot’s hand. “I’m not staying because I pity you, I’m staying because I’ve been given a second, maybe even third, chance at life and, well, Alice and I ended long before I died, that wasn’t what killed our relationship. I know Fillory is where I’m probably supposed to be, but it’s not the Fillory that I left. Margo, Josh, Alice and Fen created that world, of course I’ll go and visit, but it’s more theirs than mine now.  
“I’m staying here because I want to live out another fifty years with you that I completely and utterly remember. All the good bits, and the bad. I want to have a life with you that isn’t just because of a quest or some adventure. I want to live a life that is complete with mistakes and messes, but mostly the good parts and the best memories, that we’ll look back on in fifty or sixty years.” Quentin leaned forward and kissed Eliot, who had tears rolling down his cheeks. “Proof of concept,” Q whispered. “That’s what we’ve got.”  
Eliot smiled, the light of dawn fluttering into the room. “At least we know I still look good at seventy.” 

Late morning arrived, Quentin and Eliot were once again tangled in sheets and each other. Clothes were scattered around the room: a tie over the headboard, a shirt on the door handle, underwear on the chest of drawers and over the new mirror.  
“Hey Q?”  
“Mhmmm.” Quentin mumbled in reply, face squashed into the pillow.  
“A very eager first year found something of yours in the library,” He gravitated the book over to them from the shelf, opening it onto the page with Quentin’s notes. “There’s some numbers on here that I don’t know what they mean? Did you find something to help with battle magic?”  
Quentin rolled over, squinting at the book. “Yeah it’s very important. It summons a protective being who will do anything in its power to stop you from being hurt, but the cost is huge, you form an intense bond with it, and it can still be hurt, which also hurts whoever summoned it because of the connection you have. It is incredibly painful to see anything bad happen to it, it feels like all hope is lost.” His voice sounding deadly serious and Eliot was suddenly very worried, especially that one of the students might have tried it.  
“Q? What is it?”  
Quentin’s expression softened like butter left out in the sun. “It’s…it’s your phone number from when we first met.”. Eliot breathed out so heavily that he physically felt himself deflate. He looked at the numbers again, suddenly realising how stupid he’d been.  
“I thought it was something to do with the Rhineman Ultra. Seeing it, it felt like the start of something. A new Quest, I don’t know, it made me miss you.”  
Quentin smiled, “I didn’t know you cared so much about that kind of stuff, you usually let me and Alice do the hard work.” He teased.  
“What can I say, I’ve gone full Indianna Jones. But, do you think you want to find out what happened to you? It smells like a new quest for you.”  
“Of course I want answers, and we can do this quest together, but I’d like to just, erm, not have to worry about saving the world or magic or someone. I’d like to do normal for bit.”  
“Q, you say that like there’s such a thing as normal in our lives.” Eliot scoffed, tracing his fingers over Quentin’s back and shoulders.  
“Fine, then I want to do extraordinary.”  
“That I can definitely manage.”


	6. The Problem with Legacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a story of what happened next.

Time passed and life unrolled. Eliot and Quentin had spent a lot of time telling all the people they knew that he wasn’t dead anymore. Todd screamed, Professor Lipson fainted, Fogg almost fell off the wagon. It quite a fun few months. The others got more used to having Quentin around, and they found a way to make another portal to New Fillory. Now El and Q could go back and forth without having to rely on Penny. They spent a lot of time there, exploring regions that hadn’t been mapped and finding creatures that they didn’t have names for. On one trip, they found an orchard of just plum trees and peach trees, it felt like fate and they vowed it would always be their place. They built a house there, the kind that only truly exists in fairy tales. Thatched roof, roses and ivy creeping around the stone walls, there was even a stream that ran down the bottom of the garden. It was a dream, and didn’t feel real but that might just have been the opium. It was like a holiday home for them, somewhere they could escape to when real life got to be a bit too much.

Life happened for all the others too, they all had their own stories to live out, stories that Penny 40 had read lifetimes ago and knew they’d all be just fine. Margo and Josh got married: Quentin was best man, Fen and Eliot reluctantly shared the title of Maid of Honour. They kept improving Fillory, with Alice advising in her official capacity as ‘Genius to the High King Margo’. Julia and Penny raised Hope, teaching her how to travel, how to use magic – with some “help” from Eliot and Quentin, who mostly caused trouble by teaching her the most annoying spells. They didn’t see much of Kady anymore, the Hedge network was growing quickly, but they knew she was alright. Brakebills kept on teaching generations of magicians, and Quentin had started to teach too. He seemed to be better at magic, but if magic comes from pain, dying seemed to be a pretty good way to get a bucket-load. Life was, for the most part, pretty good.

They found some answers about what happened to Quentin, why he’d come back. Of course, all of the others had joined in on the Quest. The dark place he’s been in was what lay between the mirror realm, the underworld and real life. It was where the Library had been. Penny found a way to travel there, using Quentin’s memories to find it. After Zelda had burned all the books, and freezing the fountains over, it had burned itself out with no way to ever get back. Except they did, of course it was them who’d managed to find their way into a lost world. The realm still existed, and they all knew exactly who should rebuild it. After some negotiations, Penny 40 agreed to rebuild the Library, a better one. They agreed that it would be more efficient, never hold people hostage, and never, ever have billion-year contracts again.

That was one answer they got, but the others were more difficult. Summoning Janus wasn’t easy, but he explained that Quentin wasn’t supposed to die when he did. It was impossible to predict what happens in the Mirror Realm, the gods couldn’t see time in there and his Library Book was gone. The Gods had managed to pull him out before he reached what lay beyond the Underworld, but even their power was limited in a realm that wasn’t supposed to exist.  
Two answers out of three wasn’t bad, and they still didn’t know what had been in the darkness with him. Perhaps the ghosts of the Librarians, perhaps the ghosts of the burned books, a Shade or a Monster like the Nameless. It didn’t seem to come back, though Q was still a little wary of mirrors. The answers had given him closure, it gave all of them closure. Eliot most of all. A lifetime of hurt, pain and secrets suddenly didn’t seem to matter anymore. It made him who he was, but he looked to the future much more now. Quentin gave him hope again and he felt genuinely content.

Quentin and Eliot were at the Fillory house, on what felt like a well-needed vacation after half of Brakebills had been blown up by the new Physical Kids trying to emulate Eliot’s old soirées. Eliot came inside from picking some ripe peaches – making a series of jokes about butts – and found Quentin staring at a blank piece of paper, a pen in his hand. He threw a peach at him, Quentin caught it without even looking up.

“What are you doing?”  
“I was thinking, someone should write down everything we’ve done. I’ll become the new Christopher Plover.”  
“Just don’t, you know, become a paedophile.” Eliot sat down opposite Quentin, biting into a peach, the juice dripping down his chin.  
“I’ll try my best,” Said Quentin, voice dripping with irony. “But our lives became just as interesting as Jane, Rupert and Martin’s, we deserve people to know what we went through.” Eliot didn’t reply, wondering where Rupert was, so Quentin continued. “At least there’s a consistent character trope of people who you sleep with dying and coming back to life.”  
Eliot scowled, but suddenly realised that if he’d had a nickel for every time that had happened, he’d have two nickels, which wasn’t a lot, but it was weird it had happened twice. “What are you going to call it?”  
“I don’t know, that’s where I’m stuck.”  
“How about, The Quests of the Eight?”  
“I like that,” Quentin wrote it down at the top of the page. “I think I should have decided to do this on a computer.”  
“I like the rustic effect, has a strong Lord of the Rings energy,” Said Eliot. “What’s the first part called?”

Quentin didn’t immediately reply, thinking over names, mouthing them as if he were tasting the words to see what sounded right. “Hmm, I know, Unauthorised Magic.” Eliot watched him begin to write, knowing that this might just have been what Quentin’s destiny was in the first place. He read the first words Quentin had put down, the opening to the book, and knew that there was no one better to tell their tale:

_Life wasn't perfect, neither was magic, but one made the other just a little bit better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading pals x


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